


a thousand paper cranes

by suddendistance



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 22:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7288510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suddendistance/pseuds/suddendistance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a legend, her mother tells her, that says that if you fold a thousand paper cranes, your wish will come true. </p><p>Hinoka likes how a series of simple folds can turn a sheet of paper into something beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thousand paper cranes

Hinoka was introduced to origami when she was little. Maybe when she was 4. Or 5. She was never really good with dates, but maybe it doesn’t matter anyway.

She _does_ remember the circumstance, though. Most of her childhood memories blur with time, but she remembers this one with astonishing clarity. Her mother had come home from work, and handed Hinoka a little bird made of paper.

Her eyes widen. “What’s this?”

“It’s a crane, ‘noka,” her mother says, “if you fold a thousand, a wish will come true!”

Somehow, her eyes grow even wider.

“Any wish?,” she asks quietly, tentatively.

Her mother nods. “Of course, my little love. Would you like me to show you how to make one?"

Hinoka nods eagerly.

Her first attempt ends in failure. Indeed, so do the next few. Her inexperience, coupled with her impatient uneven folds, are a recipe for disaster. She isn't the type to give up, though. After a large number of casualties (dozens of scrunched up balls of paper litter the floor), she cries to her mother in defeat.

At the end of a few minutes (back then, it feels like hours) of patient instruction, Hinoka proudly holds up a (slightly) battered looking paper crane and feels unbridled joy.

* * *

After that, she begins to catch on; each subsequent crane gets folded a little bit faster, a little bit neater.

“Goodness, Hinoka!" Her mother laughs when she saw Hinoka’s growing stash. “What are you going to wish for?"

Hinoka bites her lip. “I’m not sure yet, momma."

“You know, there are other things you can fold too!” Her mother smiles, and bends down to Hinoka’s level to show her a slightly battered beginner's origami instruction book.

She can’t read that well yet, but the pictures and diagrams show her what she needs to know. She learns the difference between valley and mountain folds, reverse and rabbit folds. She moves on from folding cranes to folding boats and boxes and bears; the ultimate goal of folding a thousand cranes is tentatively set aside. Later, she presents a messy bouquet of snow white paper lilies to her mother, and the warm reception is enough to spur her on to fold even more.

Together, mother and daughter would spend their evenings bent over the little book, laughing into the night as their paper horses and paper flowers fill the dining room table. One day, her mother surprises her with another gift: an enormous stack of origami paper, some with the prettiest floral patterns she’s ever seen, others in plain, simple colours - and it was the most thrilling gift she could have ever asked for.

* * *

Not soon after, her mother falls ill and is admitted into the hospital.

In response to this, Hinoka’s determination to fold a thousand paper cranes is lit anew. She spends every waking moment folding paper cranes; when her pretty paper runs out, she begins using plain printer paper. When _that_ runs out, anything paper-based within arm’s reach becomes at risk of being turned into a crane. She folds every scrap she could find until her fingers are dry, and then she folds some more.

 _If I can just fold a thousand_ , she reasons, _I can wish for momma to get better_.

She tells her mother this; in response, her mother reaches for her hand and their fingers intertwine. Her mother’s eyes flutter weakly, each breath slow and laboured. Sometimes, Hinoka hears quiet whispers in the hospital hallway, words like _incurable_ and _terminal_ mixed in with tears and apologies but she refuses to believe them. Because _it's okay_! The cranes, her wish! It will make everything better, she is sure of it.

It takes weeks and weeks of folding to fill the hospital room with birds of all colours. The room looks brighter because she's done it — a thousand paper cranes! — surely now her mother will get better!

But her mother does not get any better.

Undeterred, she begins to fold another thousand paper cranes. She is halfway to another thousand (surely, the Gods can’t neglect two unfulfilled wishes, right?) when her mother suddenly passes away.

At the funeral, her father hands the cranes to family and friends, and Hinoka does not fold origami for a long time afterwards.

* * *

A year later, they move into a new house. The old one, her father says, is too full of memories, and without her mother, it feels empty - _please, little ‘noka, understand_.

She is furious, but even at six years old, she understands her father’s despair and why, exactly they had to move.

This new house is bigger. That’s something, at least.

As she helps her older brother and father unpack the big cardboard boxes (Takumi and Sakura are still too little to be of much help), she notices the battered beginner’s origami book mixed in with a pile of older books. As she flips through the pages, memories of the nights she use to spend with her mother come flooding back, and tears fill her eyes.

She takes the book into her room and folds diagram after diagram, and she swears she hears the sad and sweet sound of her mother’s calming voice echo through the unfamiliar house.

* * *

As she grows older, she borrows every origami related book from the library and masters each diagram, one by one. She folds cranes for luck before presentations, big sports games and tests.  Eventually, her room is filled with a veritable army of animals and fauna; when she starts running out of space, she gives them away.

The cranes evolve into koi fish (she sees a video on the internet when she was 12, and is captivated) and _kusudama_ (at 18, she wants something more classy to decorate her dorm room than her childhood animal companions). When her father remarries, Hinoka designs and folds every flower in the bride’s bouquet; at her high school commencement, she makes a small, elegant rose to attach to her graduation cap’s tassel. When she starts attending university lectures, she leaves paper roses in her seat for the next class to find; later, when she starts her first office job, she leaves origami stars on window ledges and on the train. At restaurants, she makes tiny fish and birds to leave alongside a tip.

Deep down, she knows that they are, more likely than not, going to find a home in the trash bin; Hinoka isn’t delusional.

But sometimes, she imagines a delighted child discovering the little bird or a flower that she had left behind; at other times, she overhears her coworkers puzzle over the little paper rabbit that appeared by the coffee machine.

Those little moments - they are enough.

* * *

As an adult, the origami folds (which had once given her so much trouble) are now quick and methodical.

Precise.

Second nature.

As she settles into the comforting rhythm of folds, the familiar feeling of paper in her hands, she can feel her mind wander away from the stress of everyday life. She likes how a series of simple folds can turn a sheet of paper into something beautiful.

Clean.

Elegant, by design.

No matter how many complicated models she conquers throughout the years, she always finds herself drifting back to folding cranes. Not because she wants a wish to come true, though. She had learned long ago that there was no such thing as wish-granting cranes.

She can’t put her finger on it, exactly.

But there is something calming about folding cranes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no where as skilled as Hinoka, but I stress fold origami roses a lot and I got extremely excited when I found out Hinoka and Hayato's supports were centred on origami. 
> 
> But seriously, ROSES, man. They're fun to fold. 
> 
> Thanks for reading this weird little fic revolving around Hinoka's crafty hobby!


End file.
